The Joys of Teaching

One month down, five more to go. It's exam week, which means that, with a few scrapes and bruises, I have survived my first month of teaching. It's been an interesting month. If the next five go by as quickly as the first one, I'll be done in no time. It's also been stressful and exhausting, and I've made a fool out of myself more than once, and yet I'm enjoying it. (Since I can't use Spanish and I should stay away from definitions, the best way to explain something is usually to act it out. Last week, I got down on my hands and knees and did a push-up in front of my class.) My biggest challenge (obviously) has been Hitler and his entire class. At the end of week 1 I discovered part of my problem was that they didn't understand the meaning of the word "quiet." By the end of week 2 I had no choice but to put my foot down and assign them seats. Things have improved slightly since then.

Peruvians definitely have an interesting mix of names. First, I have Hitler, but I also teach a Roosevelt. It would be even more amusing if they were in the same class, but alas, Roosevelt is much more advanced than Hitler. He's also a much more pleasant person. Go figure. Hitler is incredibly stubborn and gets very frustrated with me when I won't speak in Spanish. He also flat out refuses to answer questions sometimes and does not play well with others. Every time I assign pair work, he won't actually work with his partner. Last week, however, Hitler missed his first class of the month. I discovered that Basico 2 can be a bit fun as long as Hitler's not around. (I'm sure Europe felt the same way.) At the same time, I can't help but feel for the guy. Because of his name, he can't ever leave Peru. He most certainly can't go to Europe, there's probably a few countries who wouldn't even let him in. As far as other names go, there's a mix of traditional Hispanic names (I teach several Carlos's, Luis's, and every variation of Rose possible. Rosa, Rosario, Rosio...) and older English names, like Nancy and Wilbert. On the flip side, most all my students call me "teacher." A few of them call me Kelli, but even if I tell them to call me Kelli, they still insist on "teacher." Now I turn my head whenever I hear that word. This must be what parents feel like when they're out and they hear "mom" or "dad."

I find myself questioning the English language more than ever. Did you know there are 11 meanings of the verb "to get"? Why? I never think 'I'm going to speak in the future progressive tense right now', I just do it, so when I have to teach it, it's very frustrating. I've had a few students tell me I'm wrong before, and it really shakes my confidence. (Then I remember I'm the teacher, and the only one in the room who grew up speaking English.) Last week I drew a timeline on the board to demonstrate breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and my class (that lovely Basico 2 class I adore so much) insisted I was missing a fourth meal. As far as I know, Peruvians eat the same three meals we do, so I have no idea where that one came from.
And how do you correct writing when it doesn't make any sense? It's one thing to find a punctuation, spelling, or even conjugation mistake, but when a sentence isn't even a sentence so much as a jumbled mess of words, where do you even begin? I'm hoping to find out in month 2.